


Guardians And Owners

by Duckbang



Category: Animator vs. Animation (Short Film 2006)
Genre: Gen, I'm just...?, Mentions of aboose (nothing graphic), mentions of murder and blood. To think it was supposed to be a simple fic-, something's gonna go very wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckbang/pseuds/Duckbang
Summary: Existence as a stick figure is absolutely bonkers. But may be people need to pay attention to what's happening to them.Disclaimer: any and all depictions of real life people and objects (Alan Becker, DJ, etc) are fictious and a figment of the author's imagination. These do not claim to be related to any real life events.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	1. What did just happen?

**Author's Note:**

> This is taken from a discord server discussion. Enjoy!

No one had a clue on what will happen in the next few weeks as Alan debated about something (rather intensely, Chosen thought) with a little gremlin that had shown up out of nowhere. Judging by Red, Green, Yellow and Blue's expressions though, whatever it was didn't seem good.  


Being cooped up for so long inside the house was getting annoying. Second and Dark had engrossed themselves in a (awkward) game of Uno. Victim was inside, doing... whatever he was doing. The colours were in a corner, whispering and shhh-ing each other, glancing at the door time and again. Chosen was bored. 

And worried about what was happening. They'd been given clear instructions to not go out of the house until Alan told them to, and he seemed tense. All of them had tried asking, but he'd simply deflect their questions.

The only other people who seemed to have a clue on what was happening were avoiding the four clueless people like the plague. 

Time stretched by.

\--------------------------------------------

Alan was worried. It had been years since he had last heard from this guy, had almost thought he'd forgotten about his sticks, only to have his hopes broken. He wanted them back now. Alan didn't want to send them back, but that seemed out of negotiation, so he decided to pull out another card.

"They could stay part time at your place and the rest at mine?" He suggested, hopefully it would work. Unsureness creeped into his tone and word.

It did not. Alan groaned; it took all of his will power to not smash his head on the table. He did look down in dejection, and when he looked back at the screen again, they were gone.

Red, Blue, Green, and Yellow were gone.

The website was gone.

His jaw dropped, his eyes staring at the screen in shock, his mind unable to process what just happened. 

He _knew_ what just happened, but couldn't understand it. Not even now.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Chosen didn't understand. At one moment things had been going as smoothly as expected, the next, he, Second, Dark, and Victim were on the desktop. Oddly enough, the colours weren't there with them.

Neither was the house.

All four of them scrambled to their feet and waved questioningly to Alan, who looked like someone had just shot him in the head.

Chosen's thoughts went back to the gremlin their creator had been talking to earlier. That guy wasn't there either.

His brain put all of this together and ended up on a scenario that made Chosen freeze.

_It wasn't that, right? It_ couldn't _be that._

_But what if it was?_

They just didn't _lose_ their friends, did they?

Chosen's mind was almost panicking, a huge contrast from his blank face. 

No one spoke for a long moment.


	2. Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ok, so let's get this straight: First, you didn't want them. And now, you don't want them to go! What sort of logic is that? What's wrong with you, Alan? Don't tell me you got attached to some sticks! They're not even sentient!"

The animation program came up what should be a few minutes later, but the shock made it feel like hours. Second was the first to get up and climb in, using his text to speech to ask the one question he thought everyone had in their minds.

"What happened?" The words were slightly warbled, as if indicating his fear.

The text box appeared a moment later, but words kept getting typed and removed for a while. 

"Ok soo, this might come as a bit of a surprise, but I actually didn't uhh, animate, Blue, Green, Yellow, or Red. they were- _pause_ \- there's this guy I know, he was the one who made them. He sent them to me as he wanted them to have a public website, and I did it-like what's the harm? Neither of us thought much of it. 'They're just sticks' is what we reasoned. So I did it, and you know wat happened next."

"That's it?" Second asked after five seconds. (hehe). He was a bit shocked that Alan barely thought anything of them at first, but Chosen, Dark, and Victim looked like this was normal. 

This wasn't like the Alan he knew, Alan was nice and helpful and polite, and he thought a lot of them, Alan wasn't some random guy who didn't care about his sticks! Second was having a hard time processing this.

Enough that he didn't notice more words being typed until someone tapped him on his head.

"You okay, kid?" Victim asked, slightly concerned.

"I'm good." Second said quietly, reading the next message.

"He messaged me last night, saying that he wanted them for himself. I didn't want to send them back, but he's the one with the power here. There's not much I could do to stop him."

 _That_ wasn't good. Second started pacing around the program, muttering "What to do, what to do," under his breath on repeat.

\---

As he watched the stick figures thinking and processing everything, Alan couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He didn't even know what sort of relationships the colours had had with their original creator, he'd never thought to ask. He had been stupid. His eyes caught the reflection of the plant he kept in his room, and he looked at it, thinking.

"Couldn't we try to negotiate something out?" Second asked.

Alan's thoughts stopped. He quickly typed on the screen the following words: "Already tried, that was my first thought too."

Second looked visibly dejected, his shoulders slumping. 

"Sorry" Alan typed out, not sure what he was sorry for.

"Not your fault." Chosen said. "We could sneak into his computer and get them out." He added slowly.

"And in the meanwhile hack in and set some viruses loose." Dark added thoughtfully. Chosen gave him a look that clearly said 'what is wrong with you?'

"Our mission is to get them back, not destroy. You hear me?" Chosen said

"That's not fun- and we gotta get back on the thief somehow. No one steals our f- _*ack*_ uhh, fellow stickmen without facing consequences!"

Alan read what they were saying, but his own thoughts started to occupy him. A particular bit of conversation, in particular.

 _"Ok, so let's get this straight: First, you didn't want them. And now, you don't want them to go! What sort of logic_ is _that? What's wrong with you, Alan? Don't tell me you got attached to some sticks! They're not even sentient!"_

Alan would have loved to punch him in the face for that, but they were over the phone and he didn't know how to punch someone through the screen. He's gonna take lessons later.

Shouting brought his attention back to the screen, where Chosen and Dark had gotten more hysterical, both Second and Victim trying-and failing- to call them off. He sighed and moved his cursor between them, clicking a couple of times to get their attention. It worked, and they broke off immediately.

"We should leave the breaking in and hacking stuff as a last resort." he typed out. "Public backlash for destroying computers is huge."

Silence.

A figure moved in the corner of the app, throwing letters into words in a random mess that sorted itself out rather quickly. Everyone kept forgetting that Victim _didn't_ have text to speech, so while it was fairly easy for him to talk to the sticks, talking to Alan was a whole another issue.

He said: "We could do a lawsuit."

"...?"

"Skimming net. Article. Unlawful termination of business without approval of partners. Can do."

"But it wasn't a business?"

"never said that. Website. Known by people. Gone overnight. Without warning." Pause. "Need to look up stuff. Document every conversation you have with this gremlin. no oral agreements. Be careful. Evidence."

"..Sounds like a plan, but won't we need a lawyer? Maybe even a stick figure lawyer. Do those even exist?" Alan realised he didn't know a lot about the stick figure world at all, he had his own lawyer, but felt like the sticks might need their own as well.

"good question. no answer." Right now Victim was taking letters from his own messages as well.

Dark cleared his throat. "If I may intervene, I noticed a court on one of our many- ah, adventures. So yes, there are courts in stick figure world. All we need is to convince them to help us."

Chosen hummed. "That's like the best plan you've come with until now. "

Dark sputtered in I-am-Insulted and turned away, huffing. Chosen smirked. "But seriously, how do we convince even _one_ of them to help us? We can't just go and ask."

"Or can we?" Second asked, walking towards the rest, shoulders slumped. "I could try." He offered.

"That's good and all but... Do we even have enough grounds for a lawsuit?" Alan asked.

"rgby want stay with you?" Victim asked.

"Yes."

"you want them to stay with you?"

"bigger yes."

"opinion taken in account partner end?"

It took Alan a minute to figure out what that meant. "No."

"Can do." Victim said, and hopped into the browser tab.

The others made to follow, but Victim showed up a few moments later, very excited, making a motion as if asking them to follow.

They did, and here is what the tab they opened said :  
'Stick figure rights are often overlooked for what the human wants. In order to limit this, the government made several laws banning stick figure slavery.   
' however, this is not enough, and many members of the stick community are considering revolting against their human creators, demanding better treatment and autonomy.   
' if you feel like this is you or your friend, do not hesitate to contact us. Your wishes are our commands.'   
Below was a link to an unspecified website.

Alan's cursor hovered over it for a while. He was clicking, but it didn't seem to work. A fake?

The sticks quickly caught on and gathered around the button. It was the bright orange one that noticed a _smaller_ ,much less noticeable button, right underneath the first.  
"Friends." Second said, and clicked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0


	3. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew.
> 
> He'd always- he'd always known.

Red didn't move.

He didn't know for how long he had been sitting there, curled up, his head between his knees, hands covering his eyes. He didn't want know what was happening around him, he refused to look up, to see, to know. He didn't want to know, because he already knew.

He _knew_.

He'd always- he'd _always_ known.

He was older than all of them. He was older than Blue and Green and Yellow. He was the oldest. And he _knew_. 

He knew, and he couldn't do anything.

It was dark. Unfriendly dark, the type where the demons lived. The type where you think that oh-god-my-worst-nightmare is coming true. But it _was_ his worst nightmare. What Happened- he- he needed to breathe. He couldn't breathe. He was drowning, chains around his arms and feet, restricting motion, pulling him to the depths.

He didn't move.

He couldn't move, he couldn't, after what had happened. He'd wanted to forget, he had, he'd hoped that the creator had forgotten, that they would stay with Alan forever.

Alan.

Alan Alan Alan.

Alan had been- Alan was- Alan had always been better- even in the beginning when he didn't care about them, he'd always left them alone.

That was the problem.

The creator _never_ left them alone. Or Red, at least. The others weren't there when- when- 

Images flashed through his head. Being thrown to the other side of the screen. Those long hours when his code would be redone. It hurt-It _hurt_. At least the others hadn't gone through that. That was good. Was good. 

He heard something, voices, blurry voices, and felt something touch him. He only curled up more. He was scared. Scared. Weak. He couldn't- he was never able to help- he only caused trouble- 

He needed to breathe. He _couldn't_ breathe. He couldn't do anything.

He wasn't curled up. There was nothing over his eyes. Then why was it so dark?

He was scared. Scared. And it was dark.

He heard something moving. It was soft, it was quiet, and it was getting louder every second. It was coming toward him- he barely caught a blur- why was it so daark?

A vague memory flashed through his mind.

Oh- oh of cou-of _course._ It was dark- but it wasn't that Red had lost his sight- it wasn't even because of-of that- of the abrupt device switch- but it was the device itself- Al kept his computer on sleep more often than not.

Al.

Red was surprised he still remembered that name. Thinking of it brought back thoughts he thought had left him forever.

_Being left alone for weeks, in a small box, without anything to do at all._

_Being forced into doing things he didn't want. All the hours of recoding, all the torture, the pain_

The pain.

Even if Red hadn't been curled up until then, he was now, whimpering softly, his head in his arms, hands over his eyes, refusing to see, to listen. The memory of the pain. Even the thought hurt. He wondered if that was all left for them now. Pain and loneliness. Or if Al had changed.

He didn't know. He didn't- he didn't wan-want to know.

It was too much... too much for him... the voices, the... whatever it was on his shoulder... the darkness...too much.. he couldn't think.. couldn't move.. couldn't breathe...

Wait. _Voices?_

His head shot up; he could barely make out the figures of his friends- it was too dark-was that-was that fog? Fog? Arou- Around them. Foogg. He needed to-

Those were his friends. He tried to calm down- deep breathes- breathe- he needed to- he needed to breathe- he couldn't bre- He _had_ to try- he was older than them-he needed to stay calm- he needed to- needed- needed to calm down-clear his head-he was shaking.

He didn't understand what was happening, but he was scared, and he was shaking, and that wasn't- that wasn't good.

What happened wasn't good either. 

His friends cleared up, for an instant, as his mind started to focus, as the shock faded away. It was still dark- but it wasn't scary anymore- it felt- it _was_ terrifying- but it felt-it felt normal now-just darkness-

His fear had melted away, but something else took its place, blurring everything out again-was it-was it-

He didn't want to know. But deep down, he already knew.

He got up and walked in the general direction his friends were in.

He didn't want to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gremlin has a name y'all! Big thanks to Alice (you can find her in the usm fandom ^^) for letting me take her name. And god this was a ride to write. Two hours.  
> I hope i did this particular bit justice


	4. News Reports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have been messing up big time here. Shut up about the website. You'll find out soon.
> 
> -Alan Becker did not write this tweet."

STICK NEWS

STICKFIGURESFIGHT.COM TAKEN DOWN, FANS IN FRENZY.

The popular stick figure interaction website disappeared without warning late night, its founder Alan Becker is yet to reply to any questions asked by the press.

\--------------------

Alan Becker youtube.

Latest animation video shows Blue, Red ,Green, and Yellow captured by an unknown person.

The Chosen One is back, will help The Second Coming in finding his friends.

Victim and The Dark Lord shown to be alive.

\-----------------------

[Alan Becker twitter]

"Things have been messing up big time here. Shut up about the website. You'll find out soon.

-Alan Becker did not write this tweet."

"Hope that things turn out well. Or there will be war. You will know soon.

-this tweet has not been made by Alan Becker."

\--------------------------------------------

"What's up AvG crew? I'm DJ.."

"And I'm Alan"

"... And today we're to answer some of the more popular questions being asked over the past month!"

This was being live streamed. They were connected over call

"Well not all of them, some will be answered... soon."

Cue a weird look.

"First Question is actually related to that- more than half of your social media activity has the words 'you will know soon' and 'this post has not been made by Alan Becker', despite the fact it was on your own accounts...?"

Alan gave a tired smile, "all I can say for now is that the words written in those posts are meant a bit too much y the poster- I hope things turn out good or that war threat might be a bit _too_ true. Next question please!"

"That didn't help at all. Second question: 'Why was the stickfight website taken down?'"

"Oh! Well you see, I might have made it and stuff, but the sticks were actually someone else's, and he wanted them back so you know, yeah. I actually tried to find a common stand, but it didn't work."

"So they aren't coming back?"

"We'll have to wait until this entire thing clears up to know."

"How soon will that be?"

Pause. "a couple of weeks at least."

"ook..?"

Alan didn't reply, looking down.

_Ping!_

He looked up, his expression turning into one of surprise.

_Piong!_

"huh, you've uploaded a video?" Questions, people, questions.

"not me. The same people who've been running my social accounts for the past month."

A raised eyebrow. A sigh.

"Let's watch it."

"Sure."

\--------------

_[Click]_

_{video description} [A white screen. There's a crashing sound, like several things are hitting each other]_

_[screen goes black][white again][the words 'This Video was Not Made by Alan Becker' appear on screen] [black again]_

"That thing again."

Nod nod.

_[clip of Alan going tense as an application closes.]_

"Wait, where did they get that?" Alan asked, frowning.

_[click][The Second Coming stands in an Animate file. He notices he's being recorded and waves.][he throws his hands up as f saying 'yay', but the stance is almost.. aggressive.][that's the only way to put it]_

_[words appear in orange over the Second Coming: "There's a lot of warnings to give, but which is for you is the question."]["all, or none? "]_

_[The screen zooms out, there's a random website visible, chunks of its url taken out. Victim stands by the tab header. The words 'Hope things turn out good' are visible on the Animate file]_

_["we're planning something. A plan B if Plan A doesn't work. We won't have to worry. There's nothing to lose if we would have already lost everything. That is, IF we lose."]_

_[Second hops down from Animate as Chosen and Dark walk up, and Victim takes the helm of the video, taking letters from the website and throwing them haphazardly on the, well, animate file.]["What happened? Our friends were taken away from us, without warning. What we will do? We've already tried the more peaceful way. We're taking the more direct way now. And if that doesn't work? :)"]_

"That's more terrifying than any of the videos you've made before this man." DJ commented, some confusion in his eyes.

"I did not make this. "

"Are you saying that these small creatures took over your computer, started screen recording, and decided to do... whatever this is? Like come on Alan, they aren't even alive, let alone smart enough to do that!"

An irritated expression flashed through Alan's face, but it faded quickly into something blank and dead.

"That's what I've been saying this whole time. They're alive, they're smart, they're doing this, and they mean every last word they're stating. And though I know what they mean, it scares me too."

"That raises a lot of questions, Alan."

"I know. There will be an explanation. Soon."

"Is everything alright?"

It might be pure exhaustion at this point, but Alan simply didn't want to answer. So he said just said the truth.

"No. Not everything."

He disconnected from the call.

\-------------------

One week later, Alan Becker was in the news about something no one would expect him to be in the news for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo! I'm gonna say it, though I enjoyed writing this chapter, a lot of things seemed so out of character that this chapter is just... a necessary evil at this point. The next one will see you in court!  
> What do you guys think of what the sticks are threatening about? They claim there will be a war, but war?  
> Merry Christmas and A Happy new year y'all, hope you survive the end of 2020!  
> Also its my Best friend's birthday can i have a cake for her? :D


	5. In the court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were here. They were so close, yet so astoundingly far.

He was flying.

Not flying, technically, but jumping off the apps on the desktop and aiming for the other side, then leaping off of there and so on gave the same feeling.

Green, star like dots hovered around him, following as he hopped from one corner to the next, trying to keep him mind calm, trying to not break down.

Once, he would have done this with his friends, without a care in the world except avoiding crashing the computer. Now, he was alone, and he hadn’t seen his friends for more than a month.

His friends.

He crouched at the next landing, frowning. Where were they?

And more importantly, how were they?

Second was also kind of mad at Alan for not telling them about the Al guy earlier. They could have done something before this entire mess.

He took a deep breath, his entire posture going limp, and he looked down. Chosen was there, watching him. When he other stick noticed Second looking, he turned away, rubbing his arms. The orange stick jumped down.

“What’s it?” he asked nervously.

“You’ve improved a lot.” Chosen said stiffly.

“And?”

“We’re going to court in two hours.”

It took a moment to process that, but once it did, Second yayed.

Chosen grinned nervously and hurried off, probably to tell he others.

\---

[Alan Becker youtube]

[ _Click]_

_[Running video. Alan sitting on a chair in front of his computer. A plant is visible in the background]_

_[“Hey guys, I decided that it was probably time to explain some stuff, so sit tight.”]_

_[“First off, I’ll take this opportunity to apologise to DJ, for how I behaved in the live stream last week. I haven’t got a proper explanation for why I did that, except I wa sthis close to snapping and screaming at someone.”]_

_[“Secondly, it is currently 8:45 A. M. And in about one and a half hours I will be in a court and what happens in said court will decide my entire animation future, and of course, the fate of the stick figure website.”]_

_[“If I win the suit, then things will continue as normal. If not, there will be one more animation, and then it will be the end of my channels as you know them.”]_

_[“That’s all, have a great day!”]_

_[click][video ends]_

\---

-1 and a half hours later, Dark’s pov-

The court room was about what he’d expect, wood everywhere. Wooden tables, wooden podiums, a wooden statue. Wooden everything.

At least there was variety of shades of browns or he’d have given them a lecture on home designing.

A computer was put down on a table directly across them, about ten feet away.

In that computer, staring at them, were the rainbow sticks.

Dark’s entire thought process paused.

They were here. They were so close, but so astoundingly far that it would be almost impossible to gap the distance. He placed his hand on the desktop screen, looking at them, longing in his eyes.

He couldn’t tell if they even saw him, but they were looking out at the room too, their faces slack.

They seemed tired, like they hadn’t slept for weeks, and had been overworked for about the same period of time.

He forced himself to turn away; it took more strength than he could have imagined.

There were voices from outside the computer. Dark didn’t really care, in any circumstances, it was impossible to decipher what was being said, except that something was being said, the words were usually blurred and meaningless. But the voices still got his attention to the courtroom, were a fat, burly man was sitting on a single chair at one end of the hall.

The sound of a hammer striking a wooden panel echoed across the room.

\--

Everyone talked. They talked about history, about sticks, about laws and regulations. Sometimes Alan would type out a question for them, writing out the name if it was for anyone specifically.

Despite his best efforts, Dark was struggling to keep up. It had been two hours of relentless discussion now. Surely that was enough to come to a decision?

Almost as if the judge had heard his thoughts, the hammer struck twice again,and the man said something. Dark glanced at Alan.

That’s when he noticed the arm on his back.

“You OK?” Chosen asked quietly, his gaze, too, fixed outside.

“I’m fine,” Dark muttered, turning away. He really didn’t need Chosen to know that he’d lied.

“It’s fine. They’re coming to a decision soon.”

“And how do you know that?” Dark frowned, confused at his friend’s optimism.

“Look up.”

Dark did. In rather simple words, Alan had written “it’ll be decided soon.” On the flash file.

“Oh” he said,sighing. “So there’s nothing else we can do?”

“Nothing,” Chosen nodded,”except wait.”

Dark nodded. His friend kept his arm around him. After who knows how long Second and Victim joined them too, apparently they had been talking to Alan about something. Dark didn’t ask. He had an uncaring reputation after all, he needed to save whatever was left of it.

So they sat together. And they waited. And they waited.


	6. Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue knew, for example, how to grow plants. He knew what diseases affected them, which crops grew in which season, what dishes could be made with them.

Blue knew things.

Blue knew, for example, how to grow plants. He knew what diseases affected them, which crops grew in which season, what dishes could be made with them.

Blue knew, moreover, how to throw things so they landed on a specific place, and the best way to catch any falling item.

He knew how to treat wounds, he knew what his friends liked doing, he knew what was expected of him in any given situation. He knew how to behave.

Blue knew fear. Blue knew pain. Blue knew joy.

Most of all, he knew how to keep himself and those around him busy and out of trouble, for all it was worth.

He knew all this and more.

Until Al.

When Al came along and took them back, Blue abruptly found all of them out of things to do. They could always play cards or have a friendly sparring match, but that was largely limited by how dark it usually was. They could talk, but again, the darkness made it difficult.

Most any of them could do was sit around and try to entertain themselves with whatever little idea they had.

Blue didn't know Al. The man had left them with Alan not long after creating him. In those days all of them would ask Red about their creator. Red was the oldest after all, had been with him the longest. Red either gave short, hesitant answers or no response at all. Over time they stopped asking, settling into their lives. Then times got interesting and their origins didn't matter as much anymore.

Well, their origins seemed important now. Out of the four of them, Al took Red out of their house the most. Red wouldn't react, and just like the old days, avoided their questions when he returned.

Blue had stopped asking.

Same for Yellow, then Green.

At least Red didn't look that bad.   
\--  
Blue knew how to catch falling things.

 _Physically_ falling things, at least.

He didn't know how to catch a falling hope.   
He didn't know how to keep his spirits up.   
He didn't even know if they would come for them.   
He didn't know what was happening in the world.   
On the good days, it'll just be hidden anxiety.   
On the bad ones, he'd have nightmares.   
He'd been cheerful at first. Surely their friends would get them out of there, right? Surely they won't forget any of them!   
But now that surety was weakening, and it took all his efforts to not collapse.   
After who knew how long they'd been here, hope was wearing thin.

Blue knew pain. Blue knew fear. But it was usually pain with medicine, fear with hope.   
This was different. A fear without exit, a pain without relief. It took effort to just keep going.

\--  
Light shone in on their house for the first time in a while. Blue's head snapped up; they were in a court, it seemed, and everyone was serious.   
Across the room, there was another laptop, and...   
Their friends were there.   
They were there.  
They _hadn't_ forgotten them.  
He vaguely noticed Red, Yellow, and Green join him in the staring.   
Time went by so slowly yet so quickly that while Blue could barely sit still through the minutes, the hours flew by imperceptibly fast.

No one talked to the four as the debates commenced and ended, leaving them alone.

It was quiet.

\--  
Blue knew silence. After so long in this place, it was only natural that he did.   
This silence felt weird. Wrong.   
Blue knew hope.   
And he could only hope that the final decision would take them back home.

He couldn't imagine being here any longer.

For where do you live, if you don't have a home?   
For how do you know things, if all sources are gone?


	7. Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would they let the sticks be with him, after his entire past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major feels warning

As far as Victim knew, Alan hadn't cried in the fifteen years of his existence. Not even once. Sure, he'd come close a couple of times, like the day Chosen and Dark had destroyed the computer, or when Al had taken the rainbow sticks away, but Vic had never seen a single tear fall.

Right now, though, the animator seemed so close to crying that Vic was ready to commit murder. 

He hadn't realised how much time had passed until the familiar notification of Alan's lunch break sounded off in the desktop, making him jump. The cursor dismissed it, but the stick figure didn't hear the expected walking sounds as he'd go and eat.

\----------

Lunch break.

Everyone had headed out, except for Alan and some news channels, who were free to stream him sitting all alone in the room. He looked defeated, even if the final judgement wasn't announced.

Would they let the sticks be with him, after his entire past?

There were footsteps, but he didn't care to look up, knowing that it could only be one of two people.

"Hey, want a coffee, Becker?" 

Yep, him.

He shook his head, turning away.

"Come on now, be a sport, I know you love coffee."

"Leave me alone, Tennet."

"Oh but you should get something in your system, shouldn't you? Would be a shame if you went through all this trouble only to die of starvation."

How Alan managed to not yell at Al on that comment was beyond him too. As things were right then, he only shook his head again, glancing at the computer screen where the sticks stood huddled together, posture implying nervousness.

Apparently Al didn't get the hint and continued talking.

\--

Al never really understood Alan. How this guy was so self contradictory was beyond him. Even after all these years, Alan was a bag of surprises.

Likewise, Al didn't understand the whole sticks-figures-are-sentient talk that Alan kept going on about.

They so obviously weren't, it was more than likely that Alan had programmed them to be able to respond to their surroundings, like a video game. And everyone knew that characters in video games weren't alive. And Alan must have written those tweets and made that video himself, no matter what he said.

So what was this small bit of doubt in a small corner of his mind, whispering that they _were_ sentient?

They weren't, and there was that.

"You look defeated. The judgement hasn't even come yet, look defeated when you actually have to."

No reply.

There was no doubt in Al's mind that he'll win the case: no self respecting judge will let a delusional man who gave death and war threats walk free.

So the question was whether or not this particular judge was self respecting, and what he thought of 'sentient sticks' (which was so obviously a lie).

\--

The bell rang. Alan hoped Al would leave him alone _now,_ but he was out of luck.

What was he expecting anyway?

He was scared. Not of losing the suit, but of what will happen _if_ he lost. If there was ONE thing he knew about his sticks, it would be that they were peacemakers until things went from push to shove. Taking away the rainbow sticks was a push, losing the court case would be a pretty big shove.

Alan also knew that a very specific stick figure of his would completely ignore the ruling if it came against them and do something that would end badly, which would cause some.. unwanted trouble.. that he'd rather avoid..

He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed the judge enter the room.

\----

To say that this was one of the more interesting cases he'd ever gotten would be an understatement. This was a unique, unparalleled case, and the honoured judge felt like he didn't have enough experience in law to make a decision on it. He'd spent the entire lunch break thinking over it.

He accepted that the stickfigures were sentient, but that meant that Alan was an ex-abusive 'parent'. And laws said that you don't let a child be with a parent with a history of abuse. Al, on the other hand, had practically abandoned them at Alan's, which made it clear that he could do it again with someone else, so it was a no go.

Moreover, the 'noogai quartet' (as they called themselves) were full in support of Alan, defending him at every chance they got. The 'rainbow quartet', on the other hand, was largely ignored, but there was something about their posture-that the judge noticed over and over again- that clearly said they didn't want to be with Al.

Both Al and Alan had declared that no third party would be involved in this case.

So it was the ex-abusive parent or the parent who could abandon them at any time.

"Mr.Becker," he said, and the person of that name looked up. "How do we know for sure that you will not hurt these stick figures anymore, after your history so publicly painted out in your videos?"

He expected the animator to claim that those videos were staged and he did not actually do that. He expected the animator to give them full freedom to come in at any time and check for themselves. Maybe a few other things.

He did not expect the man's shoulders to slump again and the words "I don't know."

"I can only give you my word." Alan added slowly.   
Acceptable.

The judge nodded. "Mr. Tennet, how can we know for sure that you will not, for all practical matters, dump the sticks back onto someone else, Mr. Becker included?"

"If I were to just dump them again, I wouldn't call them back in the first place."

Again, acceptable.

He thought over it.

This ruling seemed harder than ever.   
Well, it was almost established that Alan's videos mostly weren't staged, and there was no evidence of ongoing abuse - either in the videos or in the attitudes of the sticks, although he did wonder how deep that ran.

His mind reached an unanimous decision, and he wrote it down.   
\--

Victim knew, for a fact, that the chances of the ruling going against them were pretty high. He still allowed himself to hope, since that was all he could do. He was aware that the judge was now writing his decision, and it would come in a matter of minutes.

Well, he closely watched all the humans.

Al seemed cocky. Alan seemed tired. The judge was busy writing. The news reporters were intent on catching the happenings.

"WHAT'S UP GUYS?"

Victim almost fell over at that, instinctively becoming invisible and whirling around to deal with this enw threat. He noticed the others doing the same before he realised who this new person was.

Purple.

Victim took a deep breath to calm down, turning visible again. Beside him, Chosen put the fire out, and Second smiled sheepishly, rubbing his head.

Purple seemed bewildered at this greeting.   
Oh, right, they hadn't told him.

"Umm bad timing?" the Minecraft king asked, hesitantly stepping forward.

"Not really, we were in the middle of something though," Second explained.

"Oh! I can leave and let you do it-" Purple looked around - "Wait, why are you guys in a court?"   
\---

~no one's pov in particular~

Watching the sticks greet their friend was a fulfilling experience, and a slightly funny one. They were this close to killing the newcomer- but they didn't, instead taking to them and did what seemed like talking.

The judge started speaking.

"-introductory line- and after considering all evidence and witnesses, the court has come to the conclusion that the sticks figures Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green will stay at the desktop of Mr. Alan Becker, following which order Mr. Al Tennet will honourably let them leave. Suit ended. "

It took a moment for the words to click. Once they did, Alan's head shot up with such a look of surprise and relief that anyone would have thought that the judge had given him a second life.

He didn't give any other indication that he had heard and understood what was being said,except giving Al a sly look.

Al sputtered, saying something like blasphemy and how this wasn't done, which the author will respectfully ignore since it does not matter. In the end, the man did let them leave, and the rainbow and noogai sticks had a reunion to make anyone cry.  
\--  
Victim smiled brightly as Second hugged his best friends tightly, not letting go. Blue, Yellow and Green hugged back just as tightly. Chosen and Dark stood together, grins on their faces, the black stick leaning over and whispering something in the other's ear that made him laugh, a slight embarrassment on his face. Purple stood away from them, not wanting to disrupt their reunion.

It was great to see them again.

No one noticed that Red hadn't joined in on the hug. He felt weak, like he'll pass out any second, like a single touch will be enough to turn him to dust. He stood apart from them, rubbing his arms, trying to wish the feeling away.

"Hey, kid, you OK?" Victim? He wasn't sure. He didn't move.

Everything was blurring out again.

"Red?" Blue? That was Blue. He knew it.

"Red. Are you ok?"

He wasn't sure. He really wasn't sure. It was getting dark, and sleep called to him. Unconsciousness. The promise of never feeling again.

"RED!"  
 _No_.

-  
They were too late.  
Vic had barely put his hand on the younger stock's shoulder when the latter collapsed like a rag doll.  
What had he meant, no?  
What had happened when they were on Al's pc?

Victim stood there, unable to process the limp body in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will take this opportunity to ask some people to not kill me.  
> I almost cried writing this chapter  
> Happy New Year! Hope the gods of time and fate are with us this year round.


	8. Coding, Decoding,Recoding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You think I want to talk about it? Do you really think I want to talk about it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of blood and murder (nothing really bad tho. I think)

Out of all of them, Green was, perhaps, the most useless. He didn't know living code like Yellow or Dark, nor did he have experience with medicines like Blue. He couldn't even run around and give the three things they asked for- Chosen was firmly against it, saying that the layout of the desktop had changed a lot and they did not want anyone to get lost while they already had this problem at hand (Chosen's words, not Green's),offering that Second, Victim, and Chosen himself would do that. Even Purple had left, saying he didn't want to be in the way.

So Green sat alone and unhappy in his room, silently berating himself for being so worthless in this situation. He was good with music and building - but what use did that have here. They certainly won't be in a mood for listening to music or a building battle.

To an external viewer, it would look like he was staring at his hands. Sure, he was, but he wasn't seeing them. His brain was wandering off; he lost the sense of time as he subconsciously thought one horrible thing after another, eyes seeing only emptiness.

Some things made sense, now that he considered them. But others didn't, more questions had come up than what he could reason out with his limited amount of information. He started to realise how _obvious i_ t was that things weren't okay, and how easily his friend had deceived him by bright smiles and bad jokes.

All of them humiliating reminders of his gullibility.

_That panic attack the day they had found themselves on Al's computer, Red mumbling 'not again' and 'I can't' on repeat._   
_Red's constant refusal to tell what happened when he was taken out of their house, changing the topic as soon as he could._   
_Those pained looks that slipped through when his friend was tired, or when he thought no one was looking._

Green had seen all this.   
He'd noticed. He didn't say anything. He should have said something, even if it was taking Red aside and asking him personally.   
He hadn't done any of that. Red had always looked good. He was still himself. Green couldn't forgive himself for missing something so obvious.

And then his friend had collapsed.

Green tensed, the memory was so real, so _recent_ , he could almost _see_ Red fall, he could almost _hear_ Red cry out limply as he lost his balance, his words still echoing in his head.

 _"No!"_  
What that meant, Green did not know, but it froze his code every time he thought about it.

The tense moments after that went by so quickly that he wasn't sure what had happened in them. Then Red was in Dark's lab, Chosen was speaking to Green and pulling him back, and now he was here, in his room, being completely and utterly useless.

On a 'normal' day, if things went wrong, he'd simply lock himself in his room, turn off his consciousness on this device, and let any other device run him. All four of them did it at varying levels, and their copies ran at thousands of different places at once, so they could easily switch from one place to another without much difficulty.

This, on the other hand, was not a normal bad day. He could not simply go to another device without the website, and the website was still down, and it won't be up until and unless Red was better, so he had to deal with this issue till it was over.

He has done it before. He could do it again. Right? He wasn't weak.

He was simply scared.

\--  
The stickgang had dealt with many problems. That was well known by everyone. But none of those problems could have even hoped to compare with the one in front of Dark, as he stared at the codes in front of him.  
Red's coding.

 _And I thought I had issues,_ he mused, but almost immediately got back to the job at hand.

Which was scroll through row after row of conflicting, glitching commands as Yellow and Blue made sure Red was stable and alive.

 _How is this guy still breathing?_ Usually a stick would die if their code was THIS bad.  
 _But these aren't normal sticks now, are they?_

His eyes paused at an extra messed up line. It took a few minutes for him to understand what was written.  
Once he did, he felt like he had been laser blasted by Second all over again.

This was a horrible command.   
Not impossible, like the task he'd been created for, but still horrible.

Dark didn't remember speaking. He didn't remember if he had moved or even opened his mouth. He only remembered the other two suddenly appearing beside him and reading the line as well. He barely noticed them stepping back and turning around to look at the unconscious figure behind them.  
"No.." Someone said. He wasn't sure who. He didn't have the strength to look up.  
 _This couldn't happen._  
Things were worse than he had expected.

\---  
The bedroom door was unlocked and wide open.

Green, of course, hadn't realised it.   
Despite staring at the door for the past few hours.

In his defence, however, the state of the door was not the main problem on his mind.

He was slowly rocking himself, face blank, fists clenched so tight that his nails dug into his skin. Certainly, if he loosened his hands right then, there will be more than a few scratches there. The only indication was the feeling of blood welling up and a faint, pulsing feeling. It didn't hurt. Physical wounds never hurt Green, no matter how serious.

.. That was concerning, wasn't it? But he'd gone so well for so long so it didn't matter. And anyway, his friends knew about it. He didn't have any hesitation on sharing his problems with them.

Unlike Red.   
Red simply avoided sharing his problems, choosing to deal with them on his own.

Look at how it turned out.   
Green frowned. He shouldn't be thinking of a friend like that. Red probably had his reasons.   
But what?   
What if, even after all this, Red didn't trust them?   
No, that couldn't be it, there had to be a better solution.   
Green forced himself away from this thought,instead focusing on his hands.

The cuts had deepened, blood flowing out faster now. He couldn't bring himself to go and wash his hands, it wasn't that dangerous. Just a few small cuts. He'll be fine.   
And maybe, he deserved the blood loss.   
He should have done something.

A barely noticed shadow fell over him, but he didn't care, until a concerned voice said : "that looks bad, can I see it?"

Green didn't move.

"Green. Do you hear me?"

This person sounded familiar, but he didn't know exactly who it was.

" _Green_!"   
He jolted and looked up. The speaker was The Chosen One, looking at him with concerned eyes.

"You okay?"   
"I'm good," Green lied through his teeth. He didn't need them worrying about _him_ when someone else needed it.

"I'd believe that, but your hands are saying otherwise." Chosen sat beside him.   
"Oh, uh, these,uh. I scratched myself on accident?" Not technically a lie, that's what happened.

"And did nothing about it?"

Green looked down. Chosen was right - it _did_ look horrible. But it never hurt..

"Let's get you cleaned up," The older stick added, getting up.   
Green shook his head resolutely. "It looks worse than it feels, I promise! You don't have to worry about me!"

\--  
Chosen considered Green's words, the red drops of blood on his hands, and the day's events. "It can't do any harm. Wait here, I'll get the water."

He didn't wait for a reaction, hurrying out, grabbing and quickly filling a bowl before heading back.  
He took a look out of a window, it was getting late, and he had yet to get any updates on a certain stick's condition.  
He didn't even know why he was so worried about him. He just was. It was a strange feeling, being worried about someone. He'd never had to worry about Dark, neither did Dark ever have to worry about him; even after more than an year, he sometimes found himself a bit out of the entire caring for people game.

Chosen would have resumed walking when..

"Dark!"  
The red stick was at the other end of the hallway, Chosen went to him.

"Oh hii Cho, great day isn't it?"

"Mayhaps. What's the news?"

"Straight on topic? So like you, not surprising, not surprising at all.. Well, Appleboy had quite the problem with his coding - I'm only gonna explain it once when everyone's together." He eyed the bowl of water. "What's that for?"  
"Oh uh, Green scratched himself. Just going to clean it up. So group meeting?"  
"Group meeting."  
Chosen nodded. "What about the others?"  
"They're good. Stressed out and tired but good."

Chosen nodded again and went off, but not so fast that he didn't hear Dark calling after him.  
"Hey, let the musician leaf know that he's awake!"  
"Sure thing!" he shouted back, picking up the pace.  
He felt jittery. Tense. His pulse was racing, all of him begging for action. But what action? There wasn't anything to do.   
Well, at least they will have part of their problem solved soon. Hopefully.   
-  
Green hadn't moved from his position at all since Chosen left. He looked up when the black stick returned, but that was about it.   
He was aware of his friend wiping the blood off and bandaging his hands, but found himself not caring.   
"I met Dark in the hallway," Chosen spoke as he worked.   
.. Soo?   
"Red's awake. That's all he told me. There's a group meeting."   
They should hurry, right? Green attempted to pull his hand away, but the other didn't let him.   
"Let's finish this, then we'll go."

Green could barely wait as Chosen applied the last of the band aids, getting jumpier with every passing moment.   
Red was awake.   
_Red was awake!_

They could finally know what happened!  
-  
Yellow had never thought that coding would be this hard. After spending a few hours fixing all the problems with Red's code, he was just exhausted and waiting for the day to end so he could pass out.  
They had to leave the last code in there. Yellow hated it, but as Dark pointed out, it was too interconnected with the other codes that trying to remove it would pose serious risks to all of them, not just his friend.

Which raised the question: why was a code like that even _doing_ in Red's system in the first place? And why didn't Red tell them?  
Yellow had his guesses, but didn't want to assume too much.

All of them were there, even Second and Victim. The only ones left were Chosen and Green, and judging by Dark's statement of Green (accidentally) scratching himself, they were going to take some time.

He tapped mindlessly at the table as he waited. Beside him, Blue sat stiffer than a log of wood, his gaze directed downwards. Dark was sitting with a seat empty between him and Blue, playing with his hands. And beyond him, Victim had a hand on the table and the other on Second's back, the latter close to crying. Maybe he _had_ been crying earlier.  
At the other end of the table, with eyes as dull and blank as a rain cloud in the night, sat Red. He didn't look anything at all like the Red he knew, that was full of life and earnest eyes. This Red was dead looks and feelingless eyes.  
All of them looked, and felt, wretched. The joy at the reunion had left in a flash upon Red's passing out.  
And then there was the little matter of the code. Yellow wanted to run away and hide at the mere thought of confronting the code situation. He died a little by just thinking about it. It was just, sad. He desperately wished the day ended soon.

There was the familiar sound of footsteps, and Chosen and Green finally, _finally_ showed up. Blue sighed in relief as he saw them too. They silently took their seats, Green between Second and Red, Chosen on the near side of Dark. Second perked up a little on seeing his best friend, waving a little. Green waved back, but quickly put his arm down .

Not before Yellow caught a look of the bandages though. They weren't extensive in any way, but it looked bad. He fidgeted a little, his hand going flat on the table. 

"You ok there? " Victim asked, giving Green a concerned look.

"I'm fiiiiiineeee, stop worrying about meee," Green whined, his head falling back. Yellow wanted to question it, but clearly the other didn't want to talk about it, so he let it slide, making a mental note to ask about it later.

-

Green sighed internally as his friends somehow actually let the condition of his hands slide. He hoped it would stay that way. "So," he added. "Why are we here again?"

Bad way to change the topic, but it worked.

"YEAh, so, uhuhhh-" Great start, Blue.

"This is impossible.." Yellow muttered.

"But it has happened," Blue replied

"Who's going to explain?" Dark asked, Blue and Yellow immediately sinking down on their seats. Dark groaned. "Fine, then. So what happened is that- no wait I need to phrase this properly."

Silence.

"Oh stick I can't do this.. Red you explain."

Red blinked in surprise, confusion etched on his face.

"Explain what?"

Dark sighed. "Explain why your coding is so bad. Why there are bits and pieces glitching all over the place. And why, in the entire interspace, you literally have a line of code _CLEARLY SAYING THAT YOUR MAIN TASK IS TO KILL ALL OF US."_

Those last words took a bit of Dark with them. He took a deep breath, and then another, trying to calm down.

Red shook his head, looking down. "There isn't anything to explain."

It took a few moments for Dark's words to click for Second. Once they did though..

"W-What? _What?_ Red is- he's- _him?"_

"It's true, Sec," Blue stated. "It's well hidden, but its there. Red's coded to kill us."

"But... why didn't you tell us, Red? " Green asked, staring at the addressed stick.

Red shook his head again.

"We could have done something about it, you know," Green continued. He was still feeling sore. "Fixed the coding and helped you get better. Heck, maybe even this entire situation wouldn't have come up if you'd just-"

"You think I want to talk about this?" Red asked sharply. " _Do you really think I want to talk about it? Because if so, you're mistaken. "_

That put everyone's back up in no time. Victim opened his mouth to speak, but Red ranted straight on.

"Did you really expect that you'll just find out and ask me and I'll tell you everything? I can't! I don't want to talk about this! And even you don't want to know _what happened._ You. Don't."

"What if we do, though? What if we _do_ want to know about it?" Chosen questioned. "What then?"

Red glanced at Chosen, then at Green, Blue, and Yellow in turn. Something that almost seemed like doubt flashed through his eyes.

"Are you sure? Are you sure you want to know about it? About all the times I got up in a cold sweat, wanting to grab a knife and kill you? Walking down in the middle of the night for some water and stopping at a door, wanting to go in and squeeze your neck so you stop breathing? About all the times we're sparring or playing in Minecraft, _are you sure you want to know about the urge to land just one extra powerful hit, or take one of you aside and end it for once and all?_ Blood on my hands. I can't find myself to care. It would be so easy, you know? Just a quick move. It would be over before it started. _Do you really want to know about how many times I've actually considered giving in and killing you all, for years and years, because that's actually better than -_ _than-_ "  
Red took a deep, shuddering, breath.   
" Or heck, about all those copies who _have_ given in and killed you - you three. Or themselves because they couldn't do it anymore. Or both, out of regret! If the plan we'd been originally made for had pulled through, _this wouldn't matter at all! I could have freely killed every. Single. One of you and not felt a even a teeny tiny bit of regret!_ That's how easy it is!"

" Wait, original purpose? What do you mean?"

" It was a game. A simple fighting game. Think our website, but a lot more fighting. Yellow, Blue and Green were supposed to be the players' characters. Me? One of the harder bosses. " Red frowned, as if trying to remember something." I'm not sure why it was cancelled, maybe the codes had gotten too hard, or something.. But it was, and we got our interactive website here, but our original codes weren't removed. "

He inhaled, shuddering at the memory. "But it's over now. It's.. Over.. Finished.. The end.. It doesn't matter.."

Red tried to focus himself on his immediate surroundings, but something kept stopping him. It was, it was dark.. Not _Dark_ dark, but murky I-can't-see dark. Still, he tried, and his vicinity focused himself into a tunnel, a bright spek of light visible far away. Red knew, instinctively, that he had to go there. He reached towards the light, but something was wrong.   
That spek grew too fast for how slowly he'd moved. Kind of like it _wanted_ him to go there.   
Red knew from experience that he shouldn't go there. He started pulling away, but a spasming pain came over him. He lost his balance and his head hit the ground..   
.. And he came to consciousness on a wooden floor.

Red sat bolt upright, gasping, looking around, centering himself. Someone was holding him back- it was Blue, just Blue. Yellow too, holding his arms. Chosen was a bit further away, crouching over something. And in front of him, Second. Looking between Red and whatever the other stick was crouching leaning over.  
Then he saw what it was.  
Or _who_ , rather.

He had attacked.. Again. And this time it was Green.. And in a serious meeting, not in a sparring match where this could be explained away.

Red curled up, his breath straining as he tried to not cry. The arms around him shifted, still holding him, but no longer holding him _back._ A hug? Why would anyone want to hug him?  
-  
Somehow, things had gotten even worse than what Blue had expected.

He never thought he'd admit this, but somehow _things had gone even worse than he expected._ Especially when they were going fairly well. He rubbed the back of the animal loving stick figure currently curled up on the floor, his breathing uneven. Blue desperately wished he knew what to say.

"The command needs to go." Yellow muttered to him. "As soon as possible."

"But how?"

"Isn't the answer obvious?"

Blue nodded and got up. "Watch him."

Blue took a step back, looking around. Most of the others were at their previous places.  
Where was Dark?  
Right. There. Blue went to him.  
He didn't wait for a greeting.  
"We need to remove that command. I know we can't do it ourselves, but it's dangerous to leave it there."  
Dark nodded.  
"Yellow had an idea, but it seemed better to talk to you about it first."  
"Go ahead. We gotta take everything we can."  
"We need to get Alan."  
-

Getting the animator's attention was easy - just ring an alarm and Alan would come over in less than a second. The seven sticks kept talking over each other as they explained what happened.   
Then Alan called Red over even as he opened the stick's code, shooing everyone else out of the room.

That was probably the worst half hour of Dark's life.  
But seeing as everything comes to an end, the door opened and they entered.

Red looked fairly good,just passed out. The cursor went and opened the animation program, and they followed.

"You know, in any other case, I would have said that the coding was beautiful." Alan typed. "It was done really well. I didn't remove all of it because some parts would have hurt a _lot_ if they were messed with, but what you described won't happen again. Red is good, just out cold. That's normal for large program editing. You can keep watch if you like. "

Sec ran back to the room where Red was, wanting to spend time with him, even if he was unconscious.  
Sec wondered, as the others followed, about how it felt to have the urge lf killing one's best friends every waking moment. He wondered how it felt to sometimes do things without knowing you were doing them.

The Second Coming realised, as he sat down, Green beside him, that he didn't have a clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop-


	9. Fixing Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH HE'S HERE EVERYONE RUN -Dark"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all depictions of Alan and DJ or their youtube channels/social media are fictional and a figment of the author's imagination.

Alan did not get up from his chair the whole night, wanting to finish redoing the stick fight website before calling it a day. Or night. He risked a glance at the clock. 4:00 a.m..  
He then looked at the checklist he'd made, most of which was done. Only one thing left: make sure that the death of Flash doesn't kill it. That would be bad.

Not to mention the loss of trust. Alan admitted it, he used to trust Al. He always thought that Al, of all people, couldn't possibly do anything wrong, even if he was one of those people who resolutely refused to accept that stick figures were alive. That was important, but what mattered the most was that his old friend (were they ever friends? He wasn't sure anymore)left the entire responsibility of the website on him and then randomly showed up one day and taken it away. Sure, it was back now, but some things wouldn't be the same again.

He glanced at the computer where the sticks normally lived, and found them all sleeping. Some were in uncomfortable positions (like Dark on the chair), but they all appeared more peaceful than they had for the past few weeks.

He sighed, both annoyed and relieved, tapping on the desk. He felt like he was forgetting something important. Frowning, he tried to remember what it was, glancing on the checklist again.

-check on the sticks (done)

-refurnish fight house (done)

-make sure flash death doesn't kill site (ongoing)

-fix this mess ( )

Everything seemed in line, he couldn't figure out what was missing. Hopefully it was just his nerves. He continued working.

\--

A ringing sound registered in his head. He looked up, bleary eyed. It registered about two seconds later that he'd passed out while working. He blinked twice. The ringing was still there.

His hand brushed against something as he moved it to rub some of the drowsiness from his eyes. That something was the phone. The phone was ringing.

The phone was ringing.

Phone. Ringing.

He frowned, _What's that you're supposed to do when a phone is ringing?_

THE PHONE WAS RINGING!

He snatched it up and leaned back in his chair, but sat straight up when he noticed who the caller was.

DJ.

He blinked again, before answering it.

"hey-"

_"ALAN WHAT ON EARTH WAS THAT!"_

_A-_

"Uhh hi DJ! Nice to talk to you again!" he glanced at the time. 11:30 am. 

Wasn't there something he should be doing?

_"Are you out of your mind?"_

"Oh uh, about that.." He frowned. "Sorry about not letting you in on it? I mean, it would have taken a lot of explanation and..." _and what?_ "Uh, it wasn't a lot of trouble for you, was it?" 

_"not a lot of trouble? Dude have you checked any social media platform since yesterday?"_

"Can't say I have. What happened?"

Wait, did he even have to ask that? He had a gut feeling that he knew.

"Don't answer that."

_"OK?"_

"Yeah."

_"Are you alright though?"_

"I'm about as good as you'd expect me to be," Alan said slowly, looking around. "The others are fine too."

_"Others?"_

"Yeah, all the sticks."

Wait, is this what Alan had forgotten to do last night?

_"Oh yeah, them. It still seems weird to think they're alive. You passed them off as animations pretty well. Why'd you do that?"_

"I have my reasons. "

Silence.

_"UH, and... sorry about what I said that day. About them. It was rude. I get it now."_

"It's.. just fine, DJ. "

Click.

Alan put the phone down. He could barely think. There were so many problems...

He noticed the checklist and picked it up, reading through it. He grabbed a pen and uncapped it, but paused.

_Do I really need to do this? Is this really worth it?_

He put the pen down, thinking. There were so many problems.

_The websight, the media, the sticks, DJ..._

This needed to change.

What was he doing last night?

He remembered coding something. The website

He got back to work.

And realised that falling asleep on your keyboard is a bad idea, staring at the rows upon rows of random letters that had their way into the screen. He started selecting and deleting them. Then he just, coded until the end of the job.

He finally leaned back, satisfied with what he had made.

-

[Alan Becker youtube]

_[Video uploaded]_

Noogai sticks put their differences aside and get Blue, Red, Green, and Yellow back.

-

[Animators vs games has uploaded a very heart felt reaction to Alan Becker's latest animation]

-

Stickfigures confirmed sentient.

-

[Alan Becker twitter]

"I wonder how many people will get mad if I shared what I did last night :)

-The Dark Lord"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"👀what did you do? -The Chosen one."

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"I may or may not have hacked into a certain someone's social media and got them banned on all of them :D

-Dark"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"You WHAT now?"

-Second Coming

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"Does this certain someone's first name start with an _A_ and end with an _l_?- Chosen"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"Yes?

-Dark"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"I'll allow it. -Chosen"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"Acceptable 

-Second"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"Uhhh HI!- Red"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"RED! -second"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"Shouldn't you be resting?-chosen"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"I'm good lol -Red"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"You guys do realise that I'm reading this entire thread? -The actual Alan Becker"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"OH HE'S HERE EVERYONE RUN -Dark"

[Alan Becker replied to this tweet]

"Wow..- Alan"

"Ignore this thread, but i hope it you guys laugh. The signs are of the stick of that name- Alan"

That was that, and somehow Alan got the biggest smile on his face from it.

-

The stickfight website went back online a few hours later. Yellow almost cried out of relief when it did and they took their place. All of them had spent time getting used to the new format. Yellow loved it, because it catered more to each stick's individuality. He'd even got his own personal lab! It was perfect!

All the others got their things too, Red got a barn, Blue a garden, Green got a room with all sorts of musical equipment. Dark had his own lab, and Second got all sorts of art supplies. Chosen had a training room. As far as Yellow knew, all of them were checking their things out. 

His own room had at least two computers on their separate desks, and all sorts of fancy science stuff tm that the author doesn't know. It looked great, and it worked great, no flaws anywhere. 

He laughed, feeling the giddy feeling that came when a copy was created, signifying that someone had opened the website. All of them usually didn't feel it on such an extent, but it had been so long since it last happened that Yellow could allow it.

He got used to it pretty quickly.

-

Alan and DJ made up quickly, and more attention was paid to stick figure rights. After the entire stress and chaos of the last month, no one could have asked for anything better. 

All of them were home at last.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting to the end guys, we're getting to the end. Stay tuned!


	10. The Beginning and The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rainbow sticks' origins and a brief overview of their life. Yellow's narrative. Things get cheesy, but in the end, no one could have asked for better friends

He felt his surroundings, bland and pale, silent except for the soft sighing sounds of the brush, all white except for himself, and waiting to be seen completely. He couldn't move- not yet anyway- and he realised he didn't want to try, even if he could move later.

Speaking(thinking? Considering?) of which, he realised he could now move, but something in him whispered to not do that. A cursor picked him up, he tensed, but quickly relaxed.

 _Don't let it know you're alive,_ that something murmured. _It won't end good._

He didn't question it. In the first minutes of their life, stick figures have to trust their instincts. And if his instinct was telling him to stay still, he will.

The trip didn't last long, and soon he was put down.. somewhere... and left alone.

He waited for a few minutes to be sure, before finally moving. First, he looked over himself.

_Yellow._

He was completely yellow. It was a warm colour. He looked at his surroundings. They were dark, dark enough that he sort of glowed there, reflecting what little light there was. he tested his limbs. Everything seemed fine. He wasn't hurt.

There was a sound, and he went still and limp again, noticing the cursor. It was holding somethi- another stickman, this one was a bright green. The cursor put the stranger down and left.

Yellow waited until the green guy got his bearings before going to him. 

"Hi, who are you?"

"Name's Green!" Green said, holding his hand out to shake. "You?"

"Yellow." He took it.

They fell into silence. It was a comfortable silence, just the two of them enjoying each others company. Yellow noticed that Green, just like him, glowed a little in the darkness. Neither of them made a move to let go of each others hands- rather, Yellow felt Green squeeze it a little more.

Somehow he felt a little protective towards this stick he just met. Although he was sure that Green couldn't be much younger than him, the stick seemed so fragile, so trusting. And only he seemed real, and the warmth in his hand. Like the rest of Yellow's form would fade away, but his hand will remain, safely wrapped in Green's.

 _God, that sounded cheesy._ At least he wasn't blushing.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, the two of them just sitting there, but there were footsteps and they shot to their feet simultaneously.

_Stick figure biology: if you spend time with someone else, even if you don't talk or do anything, you two start being in sync with each other._

He didn't know _how_ he knew that, but it was cool that he did. 

The newcomer wasn't carried in by a cursor, he walked in, and from a different direction than Yellow and Green. This newcomer was blue in colour, and he felt older than them by a lot. Yellow felt slightly self conscious when he looked at him and Green, more so when instead of smiling, he had a sad look on his face. 

"They're cancelling the plan." Blue said, in a voice that signified the end of the world.

"What plan? Who are you?" Yellow asked, confused.

"I'm Blue, and I don't know." Blue rubbed his arm. "Red- he's the oldest and they keep him away from others more often than not- said you'll be here and I should tell you. I asked him what he meant by the 'plan', but he didn't tell, and then they took him away again."

"Oh." Yellow said. "That didn't help at all."

"I know. I'm just telling you what I know. What are your names by the way?"

"Green!"

"And I'm Yellow. Nice to meet you I guess."

"Same here."

They all fell silent, Yellow trying to think up a topic for conversation.

And once again, the silence was broken by someone peeking their head in. A red someone.

"Blue? Oh uh, hi guys.. I'm Red."

"Red! Perfect timing, could you please explain what's going on?" Blue said, Yellow noticed a trace of sarcasm, but it was well meant. 

Red frowned a bit. "Wha- oh the plan, I'm not sure what's happening either, I just overheard them talking about cancelling it. "

"WHat are you two talking about?" Green asked increduously.

"UHh... the reason why we were created. The four of us. They're cancelling it."

But, Yellow and Green were just made..

"They won't delete us, if that's a relief, but I don't know what's next anymore." Red finished, glancing at Blue. 

Silence.

"Come on now, if we're smart we can overhear more of them talk- Oh nevermind." 

The cursor was back, and somehow it grabbed all four of them at once and put them in a folder. There was more light there, but much less room. Yellow did not like this. He preferred room to move and do things.

Blue and Green seemed uncomfortable too, but Red just sighed and sat down, motioning for them to the same. Yellow hesitated, but deciding to trust the older stick, he sat too. out of the corner of his eye he noticed the other two doing the same. As soon as everyone was seated, the folder started moving.

-

Yellow woke up with a start, a giddy feeling coming over him. He got up, swaying a little, and realised that the others were already awake.

Those were fun weeks. Alan would let his computer run 24/7 and the website was a great success. Sometimes he'd put some games, like a pack of cards, or chess, or checkers, or ludo, or anything else in the house for them to find, and once they did it'll spread all over the web. Life was great, even if it was boring and repetitive sometimes. Yellow loved going into other devices via the website-though he knew as well as anyone else that he didn't actually go there. 

He'd met several different kinds of people. Some treated them nicely, others just let them do whatever they were doing. Those were the type of people he liked most. The worst were those who actively tried to hurt them-or forced them to hurt each other more than what any of them was willing to do. But the latter type would be identified and dealt with quickly.

Time passed on, and the weeks turned into months into years. Yellow slowly forgot about his rocky origins, letting himself relax with the company he had.

-

Then they'd met Second. With him came a wild life that none of them could have ever dreamt of before. Alan, youtube, League Of legends, Minecraft (and Red's possession), the Nether, Purple... Yellow was glad they could meet all of them. Second would work with Alan in animating, and all of them could come and go as they pleased. Soon, Alan would leave the screen recorder on and then watch what they would have done, editing the videos so everything made sense. He'd animate things out too.

Yellow quickly got a mastery on the command blocks and Redstones, though somehow he could never beat Green in building. The two fell into a friendly competition, and more often then not it would end in chaos.

The website was still running, but it was no longer as big of a part of their lives as before. Sometimes they'd still go and live out life in a different device, but now those moments were rare, with so much to do at home.

-

It was meant to be a normal day when they'd fought Virabot and witnessed the Chosen One defeat The Dark Lord. Of course, right then Yellow (and the rest) didn't know they were called that, and would refer to them as Black and Not-Red. It was supposed to be a normal day when they'd met Chosen properly and introduced themselves.

Yellow was glad that those didn't turn out to be normal days. Chosen was a great person to be with, if you got him to be with you for any period of time.

Yellow wasn't sure if it was meant to be a normal day when they met Victim, Chosen had come to live with them not too long before, and they were still getting used to having him around. However, all of them quickly adapted and settled into the newness of the situation.

It was around that time that Yellow realised that Second and Chosen weren't added to the website, but he didn't care about it.

Everything broke loose when they found out that The Dark Lord was alive too.

Those weren't fun days, with all the tension and arguments and fights. Thankfully everything sorted out and they all became friends with one another.

-

Things were going good. Why did their creator have to call them back?

Yellow had forgotten about him. About Al, and so had the others. He'd never really been a big part of their life. 

It hurt to see Red so wretched in that computer. It hurt to see Blue trying to find things to do for everyone, it hurt to see Green tapping mindlessly in the air out of muscle memory before realising that he had no instrument. It hurt Yellow, the darkness was oppressive. 

He'd taken the freedom for granted, and look what it did. It left.

-

Yellow almost cried out of relief when they were returned to Alan's computer, to his friends, but Red collapsed and everything else went out of his mind. Everything until the meeting had been a blur for him after finding out about the older stick's code. In the end everything turned out for the good, and slowly things started to get back to normal, and they built new lives around their old, shattered ones.

Honestly, Yellow couldn't have asked for better friends or a better animator, or even a better life. Things turned out ugly sometimes, but all of them stuck together no matter what, helping each other out in anything and everything.

Yellow loved them in the way someone would love their best friend, and he was fine with that. They still didn't trust the machines he and Dark made. They aren't getting brotherly love for that.

And right then, if he had decided to look up from the book he was reading and pay attention to his surroundings, he would witness Victim and Blue in a food fight, Green playing music in the corner, Second teaching Chosen to animate, and Dark and Red in a heated debate about the pros and cons of pigeons. But he didn't, and was lost to the world.

_-The End-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! Thank you all for reading this fic! Especially the discord server who let me run wild with this idea and supported me throughout all this. I believe this is the fastest I've ever finished writing a book, it's not even been a complete month. Right? Idk time is weird.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all have the best 2021 you can have. I'll just stay in this corner and write out my fics, everyone is welcome to come and read them all they like.  
> Until the next story!


End file.
